Walking down the stairs, I lingered a little at the pictures hanging on the walls. I don’t think we ever took a family photo together accept the one...on the middle of the wall where I was ten and Abby was 7. A family couldn’t look more awkward with those forced smiles and stiff stances like we were waiting to be blown up from the closeness of each other. Hearing Dad grumbling loudly down below had me sigh in exhaustion. If the man would only get off his ass for two fucking seconds, I’m sure he’d. When I looked at her a tear was forming in her eye. I smiled the best I was able to, surprised her with a quick kiss on the lips, said “I will,” and exited the car. Fortunately the house Betsy and I lived in was a month-to-month rental, my car was only in my name, and most of my money was tied up in the law firm. That, combined with the fact that I determined that Betsy has actually “stolen” community property by removing it from a joint brokerage account we had and squirrelling it away in an. More

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